What I Have To Do
by Kicki
Summary: In order to convince the Dark Council that his demonic half is in charge, Belthazor is given a mission that will prove his true inner nature...


_**Disclaimer**: The characters in this fic belong to Spelling Corp and Charmed Productions etc. I have only borrowed them for a while to help alleviate my insatiable need to keep Cole alive._

_**Authors note:** This "Charmed" fic evolves around Cole when he was all Belthazor. As for placing it more closely in time and space – it's up to you!_

_For those of you who like to nitpick on grammar etc; please bear in mind that although I prefer writing in English, itis not my native tongue and I may make mistakes. _

_The story contains little to no violence, strong language or explicit sexual situations, but the subject implied in the context can be very disturbing to some – hence the rating. _

_Only a few of us go in the right direction_

_Even though we are singled out_

_It's the only thing that keeps me alive_

_I do what I have to do_

'What I have to do' - _Lyrics by Flaw_

"Now that I am here in this park, in my human form, would you mind telling me the point to all this," the demon in the dark suite said in a slightly impatient tone of voice.

"There is no point," the other, dressed in the long, black robes of a catholic priest, answered pleasantly. "Or rather, none that _I_ can make."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I'm giving you another chance to prove and improve yourself, Belthazor."

"Another?" He gave his mentor a slanted look. "Is this about me being half human, Raynor? I thought I had proved by now that it is not a problem for me."

"Oh, I know it's not a problem for _you_, but there are others who are not satisfied. They want proof that there is not one ounce left of your humanity or compassion."

"What makes them think there is?" he asked, his jaw clenching a little.

"The fact that half your genetic build-up comes from your human father could be an issue to them," Raynor said, raising a suggestive eyebrow. "It makes you as disposed to be good as your demonic half disposes you to be evil. They just want to make sure you haven't… swayed."

"So they sent you to have lunch in a park with me?"

"Not exactly. I'm here to give you a mission. One that will take care of the last vestiges of your humanity."

"Great," he said, somewhat acerbically. "Can I eat first?" He gestured with the carefully wrapped lunch he was holding, consisting of a large, rostbeef hamburger and a mug of coffee. As Raynor nodded consent, he marched over to the nearest bench and sat down. "So what's the mission?"

"Nothing complicated. See the children playing over there?" He pointed to a grassy field below the slope leading down from the wooded knoll where they had seated themselves. "Just pick one out and take it."

Belthazor frowned over his coffee. "Take it were?"

"No," Raynor gave him a faint smile. "I don't mean 'take it away'. I mean _take_ it, as in 'know it' – in the biblical sense."

He was quite happy he had already sunk his teeth into the burger, or the splutter he would have made in his coffee would have revealed his reaction. "And in what way would that prove anything, except that I am a pervert as well as a demon?" he snapped, unable to disguise his repulsion. "I'm not going to debase myself just to make a point."

"Too bad," Raynor said. "Because the Dark Council is of a different opinion."

"I don't give a damn about the Council's opinions," he scoffed. "And I don't care what they think about me. Tell them I don't do kids." Vexed, he took another bite out of his burger.

"A full-blooded demon would never question an order like that," Raynor pointed out with infuriating accuracy. "They might wonder over the point in it, but they would still do it, quite callously too I might add. Most of us quite enjoy deriving a little bodily pleasure before slitting the throat of a worthless, mortal kid."

"Maybe I don't consider raping children a pleasure," he snapped quietly between clenched teeth.

"No? Well, that just serves to enhance the Council's misgivings, doesn't it?" Raynor said, momentarily losing his calm. "I really don't understand you, Belthazor. In all the years I've known you, you have committed more acts of malevolence than most other demons have managed in twice the time span, but I have as yet to see you whip a horse to death and you won't abuse children. You deliberately set yourself apart by living by some codex of your own making. And still you ask why the Council doesn't trust you?"

"Then how, if all that I have done this far doesn't prove me, can _this_ be more convincing?" he asked around the rostbeef and salad. "It's just a waste of energy."

"It's not the deed that would prove you, Belthazor," Raynor answered, with a slightly exasperated look. "It's your unwillingness to comply that condemns you. You show feelings where no feelings should be concerned."

"You mean I should be pleased to humiliate myself?"

"You shouldn't be displeased to humiliate someone else. You should be aroused by the child's struggle, take delight in her cries as you…" He broke off abruptly as a fist closed around his throat.

"Shut up!" Belthazor hissed angrily. "Keep your filthy pleasures to yourself." He let go and resumed his interrupted lunch. "I know who I am. I don't have to prove a thing."

"And just _who_ are you then, hm?" Raynor's voice grew a sharp edge. "Why do you insist on clinging to that name you use in your human form, for instance?"

"It's a good name." Avoiding his mentor's penetrating stare, he busied himself with a piece of lettuce, trying to escape on the side.

"My point exactly; a _good_ name, and names have a way of defining you, my friend. Must I remind you that the name The Source gave you is your _real_ name? Not one that comes from your _human_ lineage."

"Well, I can't use that, can I?" he bit off.

"Of course not, but do chose something else. Hanging on to your human heritage will only hamper you from being all that you can be as a demon."

"It has advantages too. You just don't understand it."

"Maybe it does and maybe I don't. I have seen what you have accomplished using your understanding of human beings, but you _must_ give in to your true demonic self completely or you will never be a full demon. There will always…"

"That's not what you are afraid of, is it?" Belthazor suddenly realized. "You are afraid that once I regain my father's soul from The Source, I will leave you and your precious Brotherhood. You are afraid that I will turn on you, because you know just how powerful I am."

"Well, can you blame me?" Raynor said in an unexpected display of candor. "You and I, we both know the reason you chose for Evil. If we hadn't had your father's soul…"

"I might be on the side of Good?" He gave his mentor a look of disgust. "You have nothing to fear, Raynor. As you say, my real name _is_ Belthazor. The humans have nothing I want. I've pledged myself and my loyalty to The Brotherhood, and you know I never go back my word."

"Another _human_ quality of yours," the other remarked. "Then keep your word and do the Council's bidding, Belthazor. Defile the next child that comes in your way. You'll feel a lot better for it. And so will I." He gave his protege a long, demanding stare. "Are you finished with that?"

"No," Belthazor said curtly, and ate slower out of spite.

"Well, I'm going back now. I trust you can find your own way home. _If_ you know what I mean…?" He gave Belthazor a last, lingering look before he blinked out and disappeared.

Belthazor took a sip of his coffee and let his bluegreen eyes trail over the grass and trees that surrounded him. The sound of children laughing and shouting the way kids did, drifted up to him. A fleeting memory of warm sunshine on his skin and soft grass beneath his bare feet passed him by, reminding him briefly that he once had played and laughed like that too. However, that was a very long time ago now, and he brusquely pushed the memory away.

If he had to do it, then he had to do it, whether he liked it or not. He couldn't lie to Raynor about it anyway. He would just read his mind and punish him both for lying as well as for not carrying out his orders. It was as always; he had no choice: Kill or be killed. Was there ever anything else?

Well, he thought, he hadn't said he had to do it now, just when an opportunity aroused. All he had to do was to try to avoid children for as long as he could, or at least until he had come up with a better solution.

Eventually his meal was almost finished and he tried to gather up crumbs and paper napkins without spilling on his clothes, when a playful wind passed by and tipped his coffee mug over, spilling what was left in it over his black Armani shoes.

"Damn!" he cursed and bent over to wipe it off with the napkin.

"Are you a strange man?" a thin voice said, and as he raised his eyes, he saw a couple of tiny sneakers standing in front of him. The sneakers had very tiny feet in them and the feet came with a pair of suntanned, bare legs that were clad in a pair of blue shorts. He straightened up some more and came eye to eye with a little girl – she could be no more than four or five years old he guessed – with long, dark hair in a pair of pigtails that dangled on her shoulders, and very large brown eyes.

"Huh?"

"Are you a strange man?" she repeated patiently. "Because my grandma has told me not to speak with strange men."

Her brown eyes gazed at him with unabashed curiosity and a slanted smile crossed his lips. Apparently, Fate had decided to deal him another bad hand, just to see how he would wriggle his way out of this one.

"Really?" he said, leaning his arms on his lap. "Well, actually I'm a _very_ strange man, although not 'strange' in the way your grandma probably means it."

The child brightened up at that. "Could you please help me then?" she asked. "My pussycat ran away and I've been looking all over for her, we all did, and no one could find her, but I've found her, but she's climbed up in a tree and I can't get her to come down and…"

"Hey, slow down!" He laughed at the endless stream of words that gushed out of her. "You're talking faster than my brain can process language. What's your name?"

The flow of words ceased as she hesitated a little and then she smiled. "My name's F-F-F-Felicia."

"Okay, F-F-F-Felicia, and your cat…?"

"Her name is Kitty. She's up in a tree… But I found her." Felicia smiled brightly at him, but it faded just as fast. "She won't come down to me. I've called and called. I think she is afraid to climb down again."

"Okay, so why don't you find your mother and ask her to help you?"

The little girl's sunny features clouded over again. "My mummy's in Heaven," she told him simply. "She died you know, when I was really young. She's an angel now. Do you have a mummy?"

"No… not anymore," he confessed.

The girl tilted her head, sensing that they had something in common. "Is she an angel too?"

The idea of Elizabeth as an angel was so remote he almost choked on it. "Eh… no, I really don't think so," he managed.

"Is your daddy an angel?" the inquisitive little girl immediately wanted to know.

Suddenly a little self-conscious, he saw in his mind's eye the glowing bauble that contained his father's soul, held ransom by The Source to ensure the services and loyalties of the half-demon Belthazor. Realizing an answer would be demanded, he took a deep breath to steady himself. "I… I guess he ought to be one."

"Mine isn't, because he isn't dead," Felicia informed him candidly. "But I pretend he is an angel, because I never ever see him."

"About the cat," Belthazor said, desperate to change the subject. "Is that tree near here, or…?"

"It's just over there. Can you help her down?" With a hopeful look, she stretched out a lithe arm to point in the direction of a groove some 30 yards away, and for some reason he just couldn't explain, Belthazor couldn't find it in him to say no to her.

"I'm not very good with cats, but I'll see what I can do," he said and motioned for her to lead the way. The little girl misinterpreted his gesture and suddenly a small hand was nesting inside his. Before he could pull back, she was dragging him along, across the grass and up to what he thought must be the largest tree in the park.

"Kitty!" she called up into the branches. "Look! There she is! Kitty!"

He followed her gaze and halfway to the top he spotted a tawny kitten, its yellow eyes regarding him warily in the way most cats did.

There was at least one advantage with being half-human, he observed silently. Animals didn't react as violently as they did to full-blooded demons. He could even get past a young cat or two.

This little cat, however, was way too high up in the tree that he could reach it without a very tall ladder, and there were no branches to climb on either.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm tall, but not that tall. I think you need to call out the fire department to get her down."

Felicia's hopeful face fell completely. "Grandma's going to be so very angry with me," she whispered and her lower lip began to tremble. "I wasn't supposed to bring Kitty to the park. I didn't think she would run away from me, but there was a dog…" A glittering tear formed in the corner of her eye and trailed her cheek.

Belthazor regarded her from above. "Hey, no crying," he admonished, oddly disturbed by her predicament. "Look, I suppose I could phone them and…"

"But what if she falls down and dies before they come?" she sniffled.

"I'm sure she would become a lovely cat-angel," he tried, but that didn't exactly help.

"I don't want her to be an angel," the now desolate little girl whimpered. "I want her to sleep in my bed." She started sobbing and more tears fell from her eyes.

Slightly helpless, he looked down at her with a strange ambiguity growing inside him. "Okay, look…stop that, will you… Oh, damn it!" He crouched down and inexpertedly, tried to wipe away her tears with the napkin he still held in his hand. Since he had used it on his shoes, it wasn't making much improvement on her face, but at least the tears were dried off. "There," he said, feeling slightly awkward, "that's better."

"You cursed," she accused, lower lip pouting.

"I do that a lot, I'm afraid," he admitted with a slanted smile. "Will you stop crying if I help you?"

"You will?" Her face lit up like a sun coming out between rain clouds, and the tears stopped running so quickly, Belthazor couldn't help but laugh a little.

"If I promise to help your cat down, can you promise not to tell a single soul about it?"

"Promise!" Felicia boldly reached out a hand to shake on it.

"Okay." He straightened up and winked at her. Then he took a deep breath and shimmered. Two seconds later, he shimmered back in with the tiny cat secure in his hand. "Here you go. One kitten rescued." He crouched down again and released the reluctant feline into her outstretched arms.

All wide-eyed and wondrous the girl stared at him. "How did you do that?" she breathed.

"Magic," he said with a faint smile, thinking that it was safe to say it, because even if she lived to tell her story, no adult would believe a child her age anyway. "Remember, it's our secret."

"Our secret," she repeated happily. Suddenly she had reached up and wrapped a tiny arm around his neck to hug him hard. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much!"

The endless gratitude of a child took him by complete surprise and before he could compose himself enough to escape her displays of affection, Felicia had planted a big, wet kiss on his mouth.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," he murmured, uncomfortable with the embarrassment as she hugged him again. Gently, he removed her arm and as he did, her eyes caught his and he couldn't quite break away as they seemed to look straight through him.

"You have very kind eyes," she observed.

"I do?"

"I think, that when you die, you will be an angel too," she told him gravely.

Belthazor smiled softly, almost a little wistfully, at her. "Thank you," he said, entirely earnest. "I doubt that is an option, though." _Especially after today._ He removed a strand of hair from her face. "But I'm sure you will be a very pretty one, Felicia"

_Do it now!_ The voice whispered intentlyinside his head and Belthazor compressed his lips.

The little girl's brown eyes were beaming fondly up at him.

With a heavy sigh, he got to his feet. "Close your eyes," he said. "I have a little surprise for you."

"Cole!"

Startled, he swung around in the direction of the voice, only to see a little boy run to his mother, reminding him briefly of another little boy called Cole, so long ago it was more a memory of a memory. And he wondered briefly where that little boy would have been today if he had been given a choice of his own.

In front of him, cuddling her kitten, the little girl stood obediently with her eyes closed, smiling with thrilled expectancy. Belthazor regarded her thoughtfully and then a bright, metal object appeared in his hand. Slowly, he bent down and took hold of her small hand, turning it palm up. "This is for you," he said.

Felicia opened her eyes and they grew wide in surprise as she saw the shiny, silver dollar he had placed in her hand.

"Go find your grandma now, and buy Kitty a leash," he heard himself say.

The girl gazed up at him, eyes bright with admiration and joy. "I can't tell you my real name," she suddenly said. "Grandma says it's a secret."

"That's okay," he smiled a little. "Mine's a secret too."

The girl giggled happily and swung around to run away down the slope.

After 20 yards, she stopped and turned. "My real name is Phoebe!" she called out and then she ran on toward a woman with two other, somewhat older girls in tow.

Belthazor followed her with his eyes, trying to shed the very peculiar sensation she had brought him. "My real name is…Cole Turner," he whispered to the wind.

Already down the slope, Phoebe had reached her family and was turning to point at him, so he quickly shimmered away.

"Well, Belthazor" Raynor said. "How did it go?"

"I let the girl run," he confessed. Then he leered and continued without batting an eye. "But I did get a little pussy."

"Really?" His mentor looked genuinely surprised and quite proud. "And I can tell you are not lying either. I knew you would follow your true, inner nature, Belthazor. The test was designed specifically to bring it forth. So, how did it feel?"

The half-demon stared at his reflection in the dark pool of water in the stone basin and swallowed. Sometimes he found it more frightening than his demonic face.

_My true, inner nature…_

"Good," he said quietly, a faint shiver going down his spine. "It actually felt good."

_Not slipping, drifting, __falling _

_one step further from the norm_

_What is the norm?_

_Not living, longing, trying _

_so much harder than before_

_What if I_

_What if I run far away?_

_Would I still be the same?_

_Break away_

_It's what I want_

'What I have to do' - _Lyrics by Flaw_


End file.
